


5 Out Of 6

by Mogseltof



Series: The Ethics of Design and Manufacture [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Arguments, F/F, Humanformers, Ladyformers, Sex Toys, Unsatisfying Sex, it's complicated - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 10:49:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17723750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mogseltof/pseuds/Mogseltof
Summary: “Is this you being obtuse about sex again?” she asked, annoyed. “Because goddamn, Starscream, there is absolutely nothing wrong with just saying ‘wanna fuck?’, you are allowed to do that.”Starscream snapped the hair dryer off, slamming it down on the bed next to her, turning her head and glaring at Wheeljack with a fierce intensity. “Oh because the only reason I would come here is to have sex with you, because you’re so fucking irresistible!”





	5 Out Of 6

Okay, so the capacitor was the problem. Wheeljack sighed, leaning closer to the open case in front of her. That was an easy fix at least. She picked up the soldering iron and leaned in, carefully eyeballing it, just touching the hot metal to the base when a plastic container slapped down on her workshop bench with a loud noise. There was the scrape of one of her tall stools on the concrete floor, the sound of a purse hitting the table, and the smell of dim sum floated up enticingly. 

Patiently, she popped the blown capacitor out of its slot, before turning the soldering iron off and looking up. Starscream was studiously ignoring her from across the bench, tapping away on her phone, not a hair out of place. Wheeljack shifted the electronic casing aside and dragged the container across the bench, popping the lid off with a plastic crunching noise. “Starscream,” she said eventually, staring at the food. “Why have you brought me pork buns?”

“You always order them,” said Starscream dismissively, not looking up from her phone. The sleeves of her red jacket were rolled up halfway up her forearms in a fashionable manner, one leg crossed over the other, the point of her heel tapping the support bar under the bench impatiently. Wheeljack waited patiently, but no further response was forthcoming, Starscream’s attention still on her phone screen. 

“Why are they  _ here _ ?” she tried again, taking a bite out of one of the buns. It was  _ delicious _ , tasted exactly like it had come from her favourite dim sum place, but that was all the way across town. She shot Starscream a suspicious look. 

Starscream sighed, lowering her phone and narrowing her eyes at Wheeljack. “You weren’t in your office,” she said testily. 

“It’s Saturday,” Wheeljack pointed out, amused, and she took another bite of the pork bun. “Some of us actually take time off when we’re supposed to.”

“Says the woman sitting in her workshop in her pyjamas rebuilding…” Starscream squinted at the open case, then shook her head. “Something. Have you even eaten today?”

“It’s a DVD player,” said Wheeljack, looking down at her tank top and sweatpants. “And these aren’t my pyjamas, they’re my workshop clothes.”

“You realise Netflix exists, yes?” said Starscream snidely. “What did you have for breakfast?”

“Uh….” said Wheeljack, trying not to glance at the half empty, now cold cup of coffee sitting on the bench next to her. “Look, I didn’t get up that long ago.”

“It’s nearly two PM,” said Starscream, sounding more than a little smug. 

“What?”

“Eat your lunch.” Starscream returned to her phone, tapping away furiously at the screen. 

Wheeljack shook her head, and finished the first pork bun to hide her smile. Okay, so  _ maybe _ her to do list had gotten away from her, but none of that explained why Starscream was sitting in her garage and bringing her lunch like a cat with a dead bird. “So why are you here?” she asked, picking up the next one and peeling the paper off the bottom. Her stomach gurgled appreciatively and she took a bite. 

“Didn’t I  _ just _ explain that?” said Starscream in a bored tone without looking up from her phone. 

“No, you just showed up with dim sum and implied I hadn’t eaten all day.” Wheeljack stuffed the rest of the bun into her mouth and made a pleased noise. “Which, don’t get me wrong, is about the nicest thing I’ve seen you do for anyone, but distinctly weird.”

Starscream looked up to scowl at her. “How is it ‘weird’?” she said, crossing her arms over her chest, phone dangling from manicured fingers. 

Wheeljack shrugged, swallowing the pork bun and eyeing off the rest of the container. How hungry was she, really… oh fuck it, she picked up a third. “You’ve never done it before. An aberration in the linear graph that is your habits, y’know?”

“Oh shut up, or I’ll go and take the custard buns with me,” said Starscream irritably. 

Wheeljack lit up. “You brought  _ custard _ buns as well? Fuck, you must really like me or something.”

Starscream’s eye twitched and she didn’t answer, pushing another plastic container across the work bench. Inside this one was two, small, black buns with a golden stripe across the top of each one. 

Wheeljack set the half eaten pork bun down and pulled the custard buns to herself, smiling. This was unknown territory for her and Starscream, it was almost genuinely affectionate. These were definitely from her favourite dim sum restaurant, and that was  _ not _ between Starscream’s apartment (or office) and here, which meant she had to have gone out of her way to retrieve the buns. Specifically, Wheeljack’s favourite buns, from Wheeljack’s favourite restaurant, on her day off, when they weren’t scheduled to be working. This was Starscream  _ socialising _ . 

Hell, this was practically a  _ date _ . 

Not that she’d tell Starscream that, thought Wheeljack, amused, as she watched Starscream pick her purse up and sort through it, pinched, annoyed expression on her face. It wasn’t until Starscream tapped her cigarettes and lighter out of the slim blue shoulder bag that Wheeljack’s fondness turned to exasperation. “Hey, no, you can’t light up in here,” she said quickly.

Starscream rolled her eyes and lit the cigarette, taking a long drag and holding it shoulder level with a disdainful expression at Wheeljack. “Honestly, it’s your private property, I’ll open a window-”

As she spoke, the smoke from her cigarette floated up and hit the sensor directly above her head while Wheeljack frantically slammed the plastic lid back down on the buns. There was a loud wailing noise, and water spurted from the sprinkler above the bench. Wheeljack braced herself and sighed as the water hit her skin, soaking through the thin fabric of her white tank top and into the sports bra underneath. 

Starscream shrieked, dropping the cigarette and jumping off the chair, crushing the burning tobacco underfoot, too late. She hung her hands by her side, lip curling in disgust as water ran down her hair and the back of her neck. “This jacket is dry clean only,” she said in a high pitched, pissed off voice.

Wheeljack shrugged, pushing herself off her stool and crossing the room to the switch for her fire system. “I told you not to light up in here,” she said, pulling the switch down and cutting off the synthetic wails and the deluge of water. “It’s on a separate system to the rest of my house, I have a higher fire risk in here.”

Starscream scowled at her, kicking the barely burnt cigarette away and bringing her hands up to her hair, wringing it out. “Dry. Clean. Only,” she said viciously, stabbing a finger in Wheeljack’s direction. 

“Well if it’s any consolation you probably fucked my DVD player,” said Wheeljack, pushing open the door. She couldn’t help herself and the corner of her lip quirked upwards in a silent laugh. “Come on, I’ve got a hair dryer upstairs.”

“A hair dryer isn’t going to fix my jacket!” snapped Starscream, angrily reaching down and yanking her heels off her feet, several inches shorter as she stood barefoot on Wheeljack’s dusty garage floor. Napoleonic, was the phrase that floated through Wheeljack’s mind at the sight of her slight and angry figure, hands on her hips, and Wheeljack quickly shunted that line of thought onto a different track before she opened her mouth and said something that would give Starscream an excuse to slap her. 

“No, but a shower will get the shit grade water out of your hair and off your skin,” she pointed out instead. 

Starscream frowned and crossed her arms over her chest, picking up her heels in one hand and crossing the floor to the door into the main house. “You need to sweep in here,” she said, kicking her foot up and inspecting the sole of her foot with a critical expression. With her heels on, she and Wheeljack were the same height, without them, Wheeljack was nearly a full head taller. She’d never seen that in the light of day before. “Well?”

Wheeljack realised she was staring and shook her head, stepping back to let them both into the house. “Just upstairs and on the left,” she said, pointing down the hall. 

Starscream dropped her heels by the door and stalked past her, about as dignified as a soaked cat. “I remember,” she snapped, mounting the stairs and disappearing around the corner. 

Wheeljack smiled to herself, shaking her head as she shut and locked the garage door. She stripped the tank top over her head and scrunched it up in her hands, walking down to the laundry where she tossed it in the machine, pushing her sweatpants off and doing the same, before she headed upstairs in her underwear. 

The shower was already running by the time she got up there, and she paused by the slightly ajar door, knocking her knuckles lightly. “Don’t use all the hot water!” she called. Starscream ignored her. She crossed the hall to her bedroom and pushed the door open, picking her phone up off the bedside table and sinking onto the mattress, crossing her legs as she flipped through her notifications. 

An email from Optimus, three newsletters from various parts suppliers, an update from her mechanic on the parts she’d ordered for her Lancia,  _ several _ messages in her work group that she promptly marked to be reminded of on Monday morning, and an article about a clean energy bill that had just passed. Wheeljack pumped her fist quietly and opened the article, leaning back against the headboard of her bed and losing herself in the details. 

Nearly fifteen minutes later, lost in the bibliography links from the bottom of the article, the door to her bedroom swung open and Starscream walked in, towel wrapped high around her chest, the bottom of it just barely scraping the tops of her thighs. Her wet hair was draped down one shoulder, and fresh out of the shower, with the make up scrubbed off her face, she looked… tired. “Hairdryer,” she snapped. 

All feelings of sympathy evaporated from Wheeljack’s mind with an internal sigh. Starscream was a hard person to like at the best of times. “Top of the dresser,” she said, looking back down at the scientific journal open on her phone, pointing at it. 

Starscream padded across the room and picked up the hairdryer, plugging it into the powerboard that ran along the headboard and sitting next to Wheeljack, smooth thigh pressing along Wheeljack’s knee. She made a ‘tsk’ noise and glared down her nose at Wheeljack. “If you’re not going to shower at  _ least _ dry off,” she said irritably. 

“In a minute,” said Wheeljack absently. “This person has really weird ideas about orthogonal design-”

Starscream gave a gusty sigh and suddenly her towel was tossed over Wheeljack’s head. Wheeljack sputtered, fighting with the damp fabric as the hair dryer powered up with a familiar, hoarse noise. When she pulled the towel down from her eyes, Starscream was ignoring her, finger combing her hair with the hair dryer aimed at it. Wheeljack kept her eyes firmly  _ above _ Starscream’s collarbones. “Yeah, I’m going to get so dry with this,” she said sarcastically. 

“If you take the wet clothes off, then maybe,” said Starscream snidely, still not looking at her. 

Wheeljack huffed irritably and tossed the towel on the floor, putting her phone down before reaching up to pull her sports bra off over her head. “Is this you being obtuse about sex again?” she asked, annoyed. “Because goddamn, Starscream, there is absolutely nothing wrong with just saying ‘wanna fuck?’, you are  _ allowed _ to do that.”

Starscream snapped the hair dryer off, slamming it down on the bed next to her, turning her head and glaring at Wheeljack with a fierce intensity. “Oh because the  _ only _ reason I would come here is to have sex with you, because you’re so  _ fucking _ irresistible!”

Wheeljack threw her hands in the air, filled with frustration. “Then why, Starscream? You’ve made it abundantly clear you barely like me and that this isn’t a relationship, and you know I don’t work weekends so what are you here for?”

Starscream crossed one leg over the other, folded her arms over her chest and looked away, taking a sharp breath. 

Wheeljack waited patiently for an answer, hands lowering to rest on her knees. It was hardly the first time they’d been naked in each other’s presence, but somehow Starscream seemed… Vulnerable.  _ More _ naked than Wheeljack was used to. Perhaps it was the lack of make up. It wasn’t until Starscream raised a hand to her face in a jerky gesture that Wheeljack remembered Starscream cried when she was angry, and suddenly Wheeljack felt like a heel. 

Silently she reached out and grabbed the box of tissues next to her lamp, passing it to Starscream. Starscream swiped a tissue out of the box and scrubbed at her face, still refusing to look at Wheeljack. She scrunched it up and tossed it at the door, grabbing another one. Wheeljack resisted the urge to point out that there was a bin in the bathroom less than three paces across the hall; she’d already made Starscream  _ cry _ , apparently, no need to make it worse. 

It became apparent quickly that Starscream wasn’t going to say anything. “I’m sorry,” Wheeljack started, but Starscream shook her head. 

“Don’t,” she said viciously, tone bitter. “It’s not like you didn’t mean it.”

“I didn’t,” said Wheeljack honestly. “You brought me lunch, from a restaurant I take you too, remembered my favourite order, and came to my house. It was  _ nice _ , and okay, it threw me for a second, but that doesn’t mean I get to throw the things you’ve said in the past in your face. So I’m sorry.”

“Oh just, shut up!” snapped Starscream, sounding even more frustrated than before, and her head flicked around to glare at Wheeljack again. “Why are you  _ like _ this?”

“Like what?” asked Wheeljack, mystified, but Starscream grabbed her face and pressed close, kissing her hard. Her lips were smooth against Wheeljack’s, teeth scraping in the furious way Starscream always kissed, pressure hard like she was attacking Wheeljack with her mouth instead of simply kissing her. Wheeljack brought up a hand to cover Starscream’s own on her cheek, and Starscream snatched her head and hands back like she’d been burned. 

Wheeljack took a deep breath and closed her eyes, massaging her temples. “Okay, you’re sending me some mixed messages here,” she said, doing her best to stay patient. 

“What exactly is mixed about that?!” said Starscream, sounding exasperated. 

“You literally just told me you weren’t here for sex and got angry because I implied you were!” hissed Wheeljack, rapidly reaching her breaking point. 

Starscream looked like she was about to explode, and she opened her mouth, ugly expression on her face. “Well, I changed my mind,” she said coolly. 

Wheeljack could see her nails digging into her own skin, but chose not to comment. “Fine,” she said, standing up and crossing the room, pulling the bottom drawer of her dresser open and grabbing a dildo at random, tossing it onto the bed, her harness following soon after. “Are you going to top for once in your life, or is it up to me again?”

Starscream was wearing the same, ugly expression as she snatched up the harness and slid it up over her legs. It hung loose over her slim, muscled hips, and Wheeljack kicked her own underwear off as Starscream attacked the straps, tightening them aggressively until it fit, before she picked up the dildo, pushing it through the O ring. 

Wheeljack grabbed the lube from the top of the dresser and tossed it onto the bed, kicking the drawer shut and striding back across the room. Something was buzzing under her skin, not quite anger, or frustration, but  _ something _ she couldn’t quite put a finger on. She climbed onto the bed, pushing the blankets back and leaning back against the pillows as Starscream picked up the lube. “Your acrylics aren’t getting anywhere near my cunt,” she said bluntly. 

Starscream squeezed a dollop of lube straight onto the dildo, smearing it with her hands loosely clasped around the blue silicone, and sneered at Wheeljack, picture perfect, like she’d seen a thousand times before. “I’m not in the mood for foreplay anyway,” she snapped, climbing onto the bed and pushing Wheeljack’s knees apart. 

It would be hard to deny that Starscream looked hot like this, red fingernails against bright blue dick, black fabric and leather against her skin, steely expression in her eyes as she slid the slick dildo down Wheeljack’s pubic mound and found her canal, pressing in agonisingly slow, so Wheeljack didn’t bother trying. Starscream knew she was attractive and used it like a weapon, one that Wheeljack wasn’t impervious to. Starscream removed her hand from the dildo as it entered Wheeljack and wiped her hand on the sheet before bracing herself on the headboard and slowly rolling her hips forward, barely an inch at a time, fucking herself into Wheeljack like the proverbial hammer against nail. 

The stretch was familiar and started a warmth in the base of Wheeljack’s spine, making her clench around the dildo, and she forced herself to relax, teeth gritted, as she waited for Starscream to seat herself fully. It took what felt like a full minute, though it had probably only been a matter of seconds, but Wheeljack felt the cool metal of the O ring bump up against her labia, and she let out the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, and tilted her hips upwards, clenching down hard and closing her eyes. 

It had been a while since Wheeljack had been fucked, penetratively at least, and  _ Jesus _ it never quite felt the same as she remembered. She hummed appreciatively, rocking her hips down to make the head of the dildo slide over a bump inside of her that made her heart jump into her throat, and Starscream made a scornful noise, gripping Wheeljack’s hips, sharp edged fingernails digging into her skin. 

Starscream started fucking like she was angry, short, sharp thrusts with an expression of almost sadistic glee on her face. It wasn’t painful, but frustrating, maddening, and Wheeljack tried to rock back into it, draw them out, sit at an angle so she could hit that sweet spot again. Starscream laughed, a high, affected noise, holding Wheeljack still as best she could. 

“Starrr-scream!” Wheeljack forced her name out through gritted teeth, wriggling against her hands. 

Starscream’s grin widened, if anything, and she leaned over Wheeljack, fingers digging in harder. “Yes?” she said slowly, tauntingly, her hips keeping up that aggravating, rapid fire pace, just missing where Wheeljack so needed her to hit. 

“You are, such a, ah! A bitch!” Wheeljack bit out, almost writhing in Starscream’s grasp, and she reached up, wrapping her arms around Starscream’s waist and yanking her forward. 

Starscream yelped, toppling forwards, and her hands let go of Wheeljack to brace herself on the mattress, hair falling around her face so that the ends traced over Wheeljack’s cheeks. Her hips dragged slowly as she fell, and Wheeljack groaned as she finally felt the dildo slide over the spot she wanted. 

“Just like that,” she said encouragingly, rocking her hips back slowly to repeat the motion, and a strange emotion flickered over Starscream’s face before vanishing as quickly as it had come. “C’mon, Starscream, like that, again,  _ please _ .”

Starscream’s expression was strangely sober, and her eyes flicked about like she was trying to memorise every aspect of Wheeljack’s face. Then, at  _ last _ , she drew back and slowly took a long, deep thrust into Wheeljack, starting an agonisingly good pace that hit where she wanted it to. Wheeljack made a low, growling noise in the back of her throat and tightened her grip around Starscream, pressing their chests together and moving with her. Starscream’s breath was hot against her lips, her skin sticky with sweat, and Wheeljack felt an overwhelming tenderness in her, and she crossed the last inch between them, pressing her lips against--

Starscream turned her head quickly and Wheeljack’s kiss landed clumsily on her cheek. 

Wheeljack frowned, hurt despite herself, despite knowing what she did about Starscream, and something in her was still disappointed, though not surprised, when Starscream pushed herself upwards, pulling out of Wheeljack slowly. She still wasn’t looking Wheeljack in the eye as she stood up and loosened the harness, dropping it on the floor. 

Wheeljack stared up at the ceiling as Starscream crossed the room, pulling a drawer open and stealing one of Wheeljack’s shirts. Starscream padded out of the room and Wheeljack sighed, unmoving from her spot on the bed. She felt empty and unsatisfied, and not just because she was still half turned on and sexually wanting. It was easy to lie there and wallow for a few long moments, and Wheeljack took a deep breath, letting herself. 

Unexpectedly, the sound of Starscream’s heels came back down the hall and into the bedroom, and Wheeljack sat up with a small frown as Starscream stomped over to the bedside table, fiddled with her purse, and slammed something down on the wooden surface. Wheeljack leaned over and picked it up with a small frown. It was a key, bright red and newly cut, and she looked up at Starscream with a quizzical expression. 

Starscream still wasn’t looking at her, folded arms crinkling the faded Mythbusters shirt that looked so incongruous with her professional, red and white pencil skirt. “To stop you from damaging my lock every time you get it into your head I need checking up on,” she said abruptly, before turning on one heel and walking out of the bedroom. 

Wheeljack stared at her retreating back, then back down at the key in her hand. A few moments later there was the sound of her front door slamming, and Wheeljack put the key down, flopping back down on the bed. What the  _ hell _ had happened today?

**Author's Note:**

> Required listening: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3WauMPwyW5s
> 
> Black custard buns!: https://www.instagram.com/p/BtptVxZHers/
> 
> Yeah, so this turned into a four part planned series, I don't know how, I wasn't even aware I liked this ship. Title from the Dessa song, hope you enjoyed!


End file.
